THAT MAN:
And so it was that the hobbits staked out a table.
FRODO: Merry, you lied.
MERRY: When?
FRODO: Just now, when you said I was the second cousin twice removed to the CEO of KC.
MERRY: You? I was talking about Pippin. Butterur wasn't looking at you! He kinda does look like you a little bit....maybe not so many wrinkles yet, and more hair, but....
Merry stopped. Frodo, Sam and Pippin were glowering dangerously.
MERRY: Fine!
Hurt, Merry threaded his way to the bar. The other hobbits ate in silence, until he returned bearing an enormous mug of ale.
PIPPIN: Wha......?!
MERRY: I have a new word for you, cousin. PINT: a liquid measure equal to twice that of a half pint.
At this, Pippin dashed for the bar. Sam and Frodo chewed assiduously.
SAM: Who's that fellow in the corner? I'll swear that's pipeweed he's smoking!
FRODO: Smoking?! People still smoke? What about ketchup?
Baffled, Frodo stopped Butterbur.
FRODO: Whos' the guy with the pipe?
BUTTERBUR: His name's Trotter. He's a ranger. Lives off the land. Health conscious orcs pay extra for free rangers. Organic, or something.
With a slight shudder, the innkeeper moved about his business. Frodo resolved to convert the smoker at the first convenient opportunity.
FRODO: Where's Pippin?
MERRY: He's trying to convince the bartender that he's not underage.
PIPPIN:...here, I'll PROVE it to you. My driver's permit. Pippin Took, 28...
FRODO: Pippin!
PIPPIN: Frodo, I am old enough to drink. Tell them.
However, Frodo slipped on the wet floor and fell on his back. Profoundly embarrassed, he put the Key in his mouth, and disappeared. He crawled around for a bit, exploring the now rather distorted tavern. He bumped into something and spit the Key out. He soon found what that something was.
TROTTER: You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill!
FRODO: My name's Baggins! What do you want?
Trotter grabbed him by the collar and heaved him up three flights of stairs. Frodo was beginning to feel sick.
TROTTER: Whatever. (Trotter was saying) A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.
FRODO: Indeed not. This is the The One KeyRing, that will....
TROTTER: Oh, can it. I'm not that stupid.
Deliberately, Trotter slit Frodo's coat, revealing packages of motor oil.
TROTTER: Indeed. Own up. You planned to pollute the environment by selling these on the Black Market to earth-haters!
Suddenly, the other hobbits burst in, flourishing breadsticks heroically. Having just climbed three flights of stairs, they felt quite sick and threatened to throw up all over the floor. Sam still had enough strength to cry out in defense of his master.
SAM: Let him go! Or I'll lave you, Long Shanks!
Trotter shuddered at the thought of a bath from Sam.
TROTTER: I'm not touching him...Are you frightened?
FRODO: No.
MERRY&PIPPIN: Yes.
SAM: Oh, gee...
TROTTER: Merry and Pippin are the only ones with an ounce of sense. You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. He'll never catch up. Never thought he'd throw in his lot with a motor oil smuggler, either, but you can never tell with these wizards...
And so it was that the hobbits staked out a table.
FRODO: Merry, you lied.
MERRY: When?
FRODO: Just now, when you said I was the second cousin twice removed to the CEO of KC.
MERRY: You? I was talking about Pippin. Butterur wasn't looking at you! He kinda does look like you a little bit....maybe not so many wrinkles yet, and more hair, but....
Merry stopped. Frodo, Sam and Pippin were glowering dangerously.
MERRY: Fine!
Hurt, Merry threaded his way to the bar. The other hobbits ate in silence, until he returned bearing an enormous mug of ale.
PIPPIN: Wha......?!
MERRY: I have a new word for you, cousin. PINT: a liquid measure equal to twice that of a half pint.
At this, Pippin dashed for the bar. Sam and Frodo chewed assiduously.
SAM: Who's that fellow in the corner? I'll swear that's pipeweed he's smoking!
FRODO: Smoking?! People still smoke? What about ketchup?
Baffled, Frodo stopped Butterbur.
FRODO: Whos' the guy with the pipe?
BUTTERBUR: His name's Trotter. He's a ranger. Lives off the land. Health conscious orcs pay extra for free rangers. Organic, or something.
With a slight shudder, the innkeeper moved about his business. Frodo resolved to convert the smoker at the first convenient opportunity.
FRODO: Where's Pippin?
MERRY: He's trying to convince the bartender that he's not underage.
PIPPIN:...here, I'll PROVE it to you. My driver's permit. Pippin Took, 28...
FRODO: Pippin!
PIPPIN: Frodo, I am old enough to drink. Tell them.
However, Frodo slipped on the wet floor and fell on his back. Profoundly embarrassed, he put the Key in his mouth, and disappeared. He crawled around for a bit, exploring the now rather distorted tavern. He bumped into something and spit the Key out. He soon found what that something was.
TROTTER: You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr. Underhill!
FRODO: My name's Baggins! What do you want?
Trotter grabbed him by the collar and heaved him up three flights of stairs. Frodo was beginning to feel sick.
TROTTER: Whatever. (Trotter was saying) A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.
FRODO: Indeed not. This is the The One KeyRing, that will....
TROTTER: Oh, can it. I'm not that stupid.
Deliberately, Trotter slit Frodo's coat, revealing packages of motor oil.
TROTTER: Indeed. Own up. You planned to pollute the environment by selling these on the Black Market to earth-haters!
Suddenly, the other hobbits burst in, flourishing breadsticks heroically. Having just climbed three flights of stairs, they felt quite sick and threatened to throw up all over the floor. Sam still had enough strength to cry out in defense of his master.
SAM: Let him go! Or I'll lave you, Long Shanks!
Trotter shuddered at the thought of a bath from Sam.
TROTTER: I'm not touching him...Are you frightened?
FRODO: No.
MERRY&PIPPIN: Yes.
SAM: Oh, gee...
TROTTER: Merry and Pippin are the only ones with an ounce of sense. You can no longer wait for the wizard, Frodo. He'll never catch up. Never thought he'd throw in his lot with a motor oil smuggler, either, but you can never tell with these wizards...